What do Phoebe Bridgers, girl in red, Clairo, Mitski, Frank Ocean, Harry Styles, Arctic Monkeys, Conan Gray and Nirvana have in common? Apparently, according to a number of TikToks I’ve stumbled across in the last month, loving these artists means you’re likely bisexual… or at least into bi vibes.
The notion of “bisexual music” is an increasingly popular concept on social media, with discussions on Reddit and plenty of YouTube videos that allude to the aesthetics of bi identity without ever really defining it. I was thoroughly confused the first time I saw this narrative on social media because on its face, it didn’t really make sense: “Bisexual” didn’t describe the musical genres, nor the literal sexual orientation of the artists. But I also immediately understood that all these artists, including non-contemporary inclusions like Kurt Cobain, shared a certain aesthetic quality — something rooted in indie counterculture, with a dose of sadboi/sadgirl energy woven throughout. Clairo may have very little to do with Frank Ocean in a strictly musical sense, but their wistful points of view on growing up and losing innocence sure align. Which is how we see things like The Neighbourhood’s moody 2013 track “Sweater Weather” suddenly becoming TikTok’s bi anthem in 2020, even though none of the band’s members are openly queer. Maybe even more telling was the fact that when I jokingly tweeted about talking to straight men who love “bisexual indie” artists, I got a massive response. How can such a wide array of artists, spanning multiple genres of music, fall under the vague label of “bisexual”? And why do so many straight guys vibe with it? “Part of it is simply that we’re in a cultural moment for bisexual people, where there’s greater visibility, less stigma than ever before and recognition that this is a legitimate sexual identity,” says Phillip Hammack, director of the Sexual and Gender Diversity Laboratory at the University of California, Santa Cruz. Hammack notes the significant rise in the number of people who identify as bisexual, especially among Gen Z. While much of the statistical jump reflects a rise in bi women, there’s also been a shift in how young men think about sexual expression and fluidity, he says. And with increasing interest in bisexuality comes efforts to build culture and a vocabulary around the experience of being bi — including by relating it to music, especially that which has an introspective, sensitive edge. “As people develop their gender and sexual identity internally, and especially if one falls outside of the traditional cisgender heterosexual norm, there’s an emotional experience that happens,” Hammack explains. “In one TikTok I saw, it mentioned being a ‘depressed bisexual,’ which I found interesting. It sounds sad, but actually, I thought it spoke to the internal process of experiencing a sense of difference from others. And a common theme in literature and media around same-sex relationships is a kind of sad, reflective quality.” In talking to some of the straight men who love this kind of music, it became clear that a common thread between the artists was a willingness to be vulnerable, both in lyricism and the sonic vibe of the music. Artists like the Japanese House, Soccer Mommy and Snail Mail often tell darkly witty stories about coming-of-age and past love, using the tonal palettes of 1990s alt rock and 1980s pop. It’s music that, as Hammack puts it, loses “the hard edge of masculinity”; it’s no coincidence that many of these artists are women.